If you like decent music, you must watch Bunch of Kunst. If you like decent documentaries, you must watch Bunch of Kunst. A raw and uncompromising portrait of the Sleaford Mods and the family and friends who surround them. Christine Franz is clearly a fan of Jason and Andrew's vital music. It's funny and heartwarming in parts but always against the backdrop of austerity Britain.

'Bunch of Kunst' follows the rise of Sleaford Mods, one of the most important bands in austerity-era Britain. Christine Franz's directional debut is raw and unpolished in its presentation of the Nottingham duo, whose abrasive, minimalist musical style is perfectly reflected by this documentary's strictly observational nature of storytelling. Much like the lyrics of chicken factory worker turned beats-maker Jason Williamson, Bunch of Kunst can be unapologetically real and brutal, as we ride-along on Sleaford Mods' 2015 tour. It can also, however, be a charming and poignant character piece, made out of a clear passion for punk rock, and the UK music scene.

While I haven't heard the band for a long time, I first came to know their origins and how witty they would become with Jason Williamson's contribution to The Prodigy's "Ibiza." From thereon, I would give "Divide & Exit" a listen and hearing Williamson talk in a thick, somewhat Northern dialect ranting about weak wages and corgis made me laugh more than any Seth Rogen comedy as of late.

BUNCH OF KUNST is no different. Despite it's strangely vulgar title (just don't flip the 'T' in front of the 'S'),the documentary is more than just an excuse to get a beautiful-looking 18-certificate for "very strong language", it's an excuse to show one of Britain's most important musical acts in a long time.

Not since Boards of Canada and Future Sound of London have I paid much attention to a group. The Mods' documentary details their release and status as a 'punk'-oriented, anti-establishment act as they create their successor to the awesome "Divide & Exit", "Key Markets." Featuring Williamson putting on a towel like the Pharaoh and then seeing Andrew Fearn (the silent, lanky lad with the laptop) talking about canal boats is just comedy gold and very familiar too. Given their origins as an independent group, you feel some of their pain as they try to compensate both their skills and the need for money in the age of austerity.

If you like THIS IS SPINAL TAP or found HATED: G.G. ALLIN, you'll definitely love this un-PC, foul-mouthed, out-there music film that details someone that people might find as just another Streets, Fall rip-off or the next best thing since the Sex Pistols.

Review by, Skinny Ebert (S.E.)